


Baiting The Hook

by WetSammyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Escort Service, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Masturbation, Possessive Dean, Too sweet to be a hooker Sam, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6737242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/pseuds/WetSammyWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is the perfect bait for an incubus they’re hunting and Dean is not happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So, you’ve never done this before? Because it’s very important to my client that his dates are… well, more on the innocent side.”

Dean snuck a glance at Sam from where he was hiding in the restaurant’s kitchen. The woman seated across the table from his little brother ran an escort service, that specialized in discretely supplying victims to an incubus they were hunting. She was a nasty piece of work, who was paid a lot of money to sell out desperate college students to a monster. 

The incubus was either smart or lazy, having its prey delivered like a pizza to its front door instead of hunting publicly in bars or back alleys, and Sam fit the victim profile, tall and good looking with a slim build and long hair. Plus Sam was a much better candidate than Dean for the whole virgin-whore thing that this particular demon had going on. 

But the idea of dangling Sam like bait at the end of a hook just pissed Dean off.

Sam needed to look the part of someone willing to sell their body for a price so they ditched the flannel and dressed him up in one of Dean’s black t-shirts that was one size too small. The snug fit showed off Sam’s broad shoulders and the skinny jeans they bought earlier that day hugged his long, long legs. 

Removing all those layers that were typically wrapped around his little brother made Sam seem unnecessarily naked and vulnerable. Despite the plan for Dean to wait in the Impala, there was no way that he was letting Sam walk in here alone. 

His brother blushed at the woman’s question about experience and looked away, as she murmured “perfect” under her breath. The madam set her cocktail down on the table while she pulled out her organizer and pen to take notes, smiling at Sam as if she had won the sex worker lottery.

Dean hated everything about this lady from her blood red nails to her overly white teeth to the bright orange of her drink. Normally, he would laugh or kid with Sam when the ladies flirted with him but this bitch was setting him up to have his sexual energy sucked dry by a monster. Un-fucking-acceptable.

As Dean glanced once more into the dining room of the restaurant, he saw Sam nodding and taking a slip of paper from the woman before getting up to leave.

Dean snatched a white apron off a shelf in the kitchen and wrapped it around his waist, blending in with the other wait staff. As he made his way out to the madam’s table, she picked up her screwdriver once again, sipping delicately. A well-placed bump against her elbow sent the glass clacking against her bleached teeth and the icy liquid all over the front of her expensive silk blouse. She squawked like a Canada Goose in spring as she stood up in disgust.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma'am! Please, let me get someone to help you clean that up.” 

Dean flagged over a very confused restaurant manager and dodged outside before the man could ask who the hell he was, smiling all the way out to the Impala and Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

Ten minutes. That’s all it took. From the time he dropped Sam off at the mansion’s security gate to when he picked the locks on the kitchen back door, he was only separated from his little brother for ten minutes.

Now, as Dean stood in the dark kitchen, leaning back against the huge Sub-Zero refrigerator with a bronze dagger at his side and listening to Sam moaning like a porn star in the living room, he realized how fucked up things could get in the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee.

All he could think was, as soon as I get Sam out of here and away from this asshole, I will BURN THIS HOUSE TO THE GROUND.

Dean peeked around the corner of the fridge again and his heart stopped at the sight of Sam laying back on the couch, hair spread out like dark fringe against white leather with pink lips open and hazel eyes unfocused. Seeing Sam all laid out like that had Dean hard, sending a very confusing message to his brain. 

Protect Sam. Fuck Sam. Protect Sam. He wasn’t sure if he should be stabbing something or beating off but either way, the wires in Dean’s brain were seriously crossed.

He couldn’t look away as the incubus mouthed at Sam’s neck and jawline, breaking away only to whisper filthy things in Sam’s ear, making his incoherent brother start to buck. The creature looked like a stockbroker, not too old and not too young, unassuming but attractive with slicked back hair and nickel-plated glasses. But Dean couldn’t focus on the monster, instead he could only keep his eyes on Sam’s flushed cheeks where the incubus stroked a thumb as if reassuring his prey.

Dean clenched the knife handle again and tried to hold onto the fact that this libido-sucking monster wasn’t going to hurt Sam right now but planned to keep him to feed on over the next three days and suck him dry of his endorphins, bodily fluids and the will to get up and leave. 

The plan he discussed with Sam had been to wait for this thing to take its fill of him, like a tick that would roll off fat and happy. Dean needed to wait until the spell was broken. But right now, this thing was rubbing Sam’s cock through his jeans causing his brother to arch his back off the couch as if its hand were an electrical wire. 

Dean pulled back in the kitchen to break the visual so he could focus on the job and not Sam’s open mouth and the sounds coming it, all the pants and moans and keening. Focus, Dean, focus. He would need to sneak in behind the incubus and not let it touch him, otherwise he’d be no better off than Sam.

“Dean….” The plea from the next room was soft and breathy but hit Dean like a jackhammer to the chest. As he looked around the corner again, Sam’s eyes were open and turned towards him and before he could stop himself, Dean was striding across the living room, dagger in hand. 

The incubus turned around and smirked. “So, you’re the brother he thinks about? I would love to have the pair of you together.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen.” Before the thing could reach out or continue its monologue, Dean plunged the bronze blade into its heart, dropping it like a stone. The expected quiet from the kill was instead filled with mewling and motion from the couch.

Shit, he had jumped the gun. 

Sam was writhing, rubbing his face against the couch cushion and palming his cock while making the most spectacular porn star noises Dean had ever heard (and he had heard a lot of them). He reached down and grabbed Sam’s wrists, pulling them away from his body. All he could think was how much Sam liked to be in control. He didn’t like to get drunk or wasted and yet here he was stoned to the gills on whatever endorphin juice that incubus flooded his brain with. In his right mind, Sam would hate this. Yet, Dean couldn’t help getting half hard watching Sam lose it like some kid at a rave.

Sam slithered off the couch on his knees in front of Dean, his wrists still held high between his brother’s fingers. “Dean, you need to help me. It’s too much. Please…” 

All it took was one look at those wide hazel eyes and Dean just couldn’t say no. His brother was in this never-ending loop of fucked up until he orgasmed. At least that’s what they thought would happen.

“What do you need, baby?” Sam’s lips were wet and open and Dean couldn’t resist pulling him up by the wrists just enough to kiss them. Dean felt the force of Sam’s moan vibrate low and long through his own lips. His brother then tipped his head, exposing his neck, long and pale, and Dean couldn’t resist dropping Sam’s wrists to weave his fingers through that long brown hair, pulling it back, as he kissed along his neck.

Sam grabbed onto Dean’s thighs like a drowning man, pulling him closer and then mouthing along his cock through the thick denim, winding his fingers through Dean’s belt buckle, yanking the belt open and his jeans apart.

He couldn’t form words any more coherent than fuck and Sam and oh god, and then Sam took him down to the root. It was wet and sloppy with Sam’s tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with every mouth of his head. Dean grabbed onto to Sam’s jaw not to guide him in, but simply for some place to put his hands while he went along for the ride. “Wait, Sam… Oh god… We need to get you off, not me… Fuck.”

Sam pulled off at that, a string of saliva connecting his lips with the tip of Dean’s cock. “Is ok, De.” His pupils were wide enough that Dean could see his reflection in them for a split second before Sam took him back in his mouth again. It was then that he could see that his brother’s jeans were unzipped and one of his enormous hands was wrapped around his own cock, tugging with the same rhythm as he was using on Dean.

Seeing his modest brother like this, the guy who hated to beat off when they stayed in the same motel room together, on his knees, legs and lips held wide open, was all Dean needed to push himself over the edge. “Sam, I’m coming…”

The orgasm was so strong this time that Dean felt light headed and dropped to his knees in front of Sam. His brother’s lips were shiny and red and used, and he kissed and sucked on them, which caused Sam’s eyes to roll back and a last gasp to sound as Sam came all over the carpet between them.

Dean helped his exhausted brother to the couch, and laid him back on the cushions, anxiously looking for any signs that the spell wasn’t broken or had gone badly in some way.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice was rough, probably from the enthusiastic deep throating. “Are you ok?”

"Are you kidding? God, I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m a little tired is all.” Sam’s eyes were threatening to close in sleep.

Dean patted him gently on the cheek. “I bet you are, little brother. I bet you are.”


	3. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out of a piece for 12daysofwincestmas. I couldn't resist coming back to this story.

Bobby said that Sam would probably sleep all day, which would get them halfway to Sioux Falls. Bobby also said that incubus venom should wear off after a day or two if the monster was dead. And it most certainly was dead, stabbed by Dean with a brass blade through the heart.

One thing Dean knew for sure. They would never use Sam as bait again.

He glanced away from the road to where his brother slept in the seat next to him. After last night - _Sam writhing and moaning on that couch, calling Dean’s name, desperate for some release after the incubus was killed_ \- Sam deserved a little peaceful sleep.

He reached over to brush his little brother’s bangs back from his face, and those hazel eyes opened. Dean always had a thing for the colors in Sam’s eyes. It was easy to get lost looking in them, so he had to jerk his gaze back to the road and place both hands on the wheel.

“So, you’re finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

Sam made a noise and snuggled in closer to Dean’s side. It was nice to feel Sam’s warm body against him on a cool morning, reminding him that his brother was alive. That they were both alive.

Soft lips grazed Dean’s cheek and found a home sucking on the skin behind his ear, while a big hand worked its way under his t-shirt and began to stroke his bare stomach.

Okay, perhaps more than snuggling was going on here.

His breath caught as his brother’s fingers trailed down over the fly of his jeans and started rubbing Dean’s cock through the denim. “Sam, c'mon, I’m trying to drive here.”

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, otherwise they would have ended up in a drainage ditch. An off ramp appeared at the side of the road, one of those exits in the middle of nowhere with roads that led to the smallest of towns, and Dean took it.

Now, soft kisses on his jaw had started to move down his neck. Sam was humming against his skin and Dean’s control was at an end. He pulled off onto the gravel shoulder and slammed the Impala into park.

Sam seemed to take this as a sign to try to climb into Dean’s lap.

“No, no, wait, Sam.” He pushed his brother off, with Sam making an unhappy whine. He turned towards him on the seat and held him by the shoulder. “This is just the after-effects of what happened last night. You know, like some sort of sex hangover. It isn’t really you.”

Dean felt bad enough about what happened last night. Sam had been in desperate shape after receiving a full dose of the venom, but they knew he would come out of it all right. Okay, ninety percent sure. And maybe Dean had been turned on more than a little bit by seeing his brother beg on his knees. It felt wrong, like he was taking advantage, but he also knew that Sam needed him to break the spell.

In the pink light of this morning’s sunrise, Dean thought he should be a good big brother and let Sam get some rest.

Apparently, Sam wasn’t on board with that plan. He started to remove Dean’s overshirt and push him down flat. “I need you, Dean. Need you inside me.”

“Yeah, Sam, I got that. Just give me a minute.” Dean pulled off his flannel and then the cotton t-shirt in short order, all while Sam sat on the seat next to him, vibrating with need, his fingertips dancing across Dean’s thighs.

Dean looked at Sam’s face and it took his breath away how beautiful his brother was - pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, hair tousled.

“Listen, Sam, why don’t we just wait until–” A mouthful of Sam’s tongue stopped Dean’s words.

Sam pulled off. His lips were wet and open, a little peek of pink tongue touching the ridge of his teeth, as he panted softly.

“Dean, I want you. And not because of the incubus.” He screwed up his face in the most adorable way. “Okay, some of it is because of the incubus, but you know what I mean.”

Sam’s eyelashes fluttered, light as dragonfly wings, as he tried to explain what was going on with him. Whatever he said, Dean wasn’t listening anymore. He moved over into the passenger seat, pulling Sam into a straddle across his legs. Over Sam’s shoulders, the sky was beginning to brighten; the soft pinks were changing into the light blue of a sunny California day.

Dean reached up and cupped Sam’s face between his hands. “Anything you want, Sam. Just ask me.”


End file.
